Catharsis
by bmwhite
Summary: Dean and Female fictional character battle both their inner demons and actual ones. Rated M for Language, Violence and yes, there will be sex. Do not own any copywrited material, personal entertainment purposes only, no infringement intended.
1. Chapter 1

Catharsis

1.

Pain. Not just the reaction of nerve endings sending messages to the brain in an "Ouch, I've just been stabbed in the stomach," or "Gee willakers, I've just been shot through the heart," sort of way; but pain so complete and all encompassing throughout every pore that it becomes an entity unto itself sort of pain. There was only one other living being who could relate to this sort of pain that I felt. I didn't know him yet and he didn't know me. He had spent the equivalent of the last forty years in the truest and most tangible hell that there ever was. The real Hell, the one they talked of in stories, though no story had ever or could ever completely do it justice. I, on the other hand, had experienced what one might aptly refer to as "Hell on Earth." For both of us, there were really no words that could ever articulate the pain we had each, separately experienced. Such pain could only be expressed through our eyes, his hazel-green, mine grey-blue, the windows to our individual battered and tortured souls. How odd it was that we met in such mundane circumstances as the post office.

To be true, it was actually outside of the post office, in the pouring rain, in the middle of summer's heat. It was my usual routine to walk up to the post office each evening just after dusk. Twilight was always my favorite time of day. It was that timeless battle when the day and night fought for supremacy and invariably, night always won. The day would slowly give herself over to the night, bleeding a rainbow spectrum at the horizon. At her core, the sky still burned such a bright crimson that it appeared violet at the surface. However, with each stroke of atmosphere, she gave up a part of herself, so that by the time that Venus followed her mistress, the sky was already owned by night. But tonight, the thunderheads had in rolled to break the humidity just before it became too unbearable. As such, I drove the two-minute drive from my small, beloved wartime house to the main street of the small bedroom suburban town.

There was no home delivery in the town, nor had there ever been in the entire time I had lived there growing up. Every day, each resident of the town ventured to the main street, which was little more than a quarter mile consisting of an over-priced grocery store, a bank, a gas station, a restaurant, and a few antique stores for the rich out-of-town city folk and of course, the post office. It resided as the hub of the commercial district like an elderly, but well respected monarch.

I pulled in to the parking lot behind the building. It was the same place I parked on Sundays when I attended the church across the street. In the lot, I couldn't help but admire the '67 Chevy already parked. I knew it was a '67 immediately by the taillights, which were embedded in the bumper. When I was a little girl, my Dad had owned one almost exactly like it, although my Dad's had been a '68 and he had painted it navy blue. This one was a shiny, metallic black.

Pushing my memories aside, as they would only bring back the pain I so desperately tried to avoid, I dashed through the rain to the post office and collected my mail. I was rewarded with nothing but bills and flyers, and a good soaking despite my haste. As I headed back to the car, in less of a rush since I figured I was already drenched, the lightening gave me a glimpse of a figure crouching under the porch of the building next door. Thinking that one of my neighbors had been caught in the downpour and wanting to offer a ride home, I approached the person, who I could now make out to be a man, and definitely not a local, picking the lock to break in to the side door of the Masonic Hall.

He didn't seem to notice my presence while he concentrated on his task. But when I interrupted him with an unassuming, "There's an easier way, you know?" he didn't seem at all upset about being caught. On the contrary, he flashed a devilish and unapologetic grin and seemed more embarrassed that he hadn't noticed my intrusion.

"Oh, an easier way, huh?" he replied with that confident grin not wavering for a second.

"Yeah," I replied and pulled out my house keys, "It just so happens that my house key unlocks the front door." Almost under my breath I added, "for some strange reason."

The front part of the Masonic hall was a community resource and employment center and had once housed the town's public library. At the back of the resource center was a corridor that connected to the reception area of the Mason's Hall. At one time, I had been fascinated by the secret society and had wondered what sort of things occurred in their meeting room, which was located in the basement of the building. Later, I realized that most of their meetings were concerned with local community events and charities, but there was still that lingering feeling that there was more down there than what met the eye. Then the dreams started which left no doubt that there was more in that basement than wine and cheese nights and essay contests, something diabolical.

Of course I said nothing of my fears to the stranger as I unlocked the door to the resource center. He never asked how I knew that my key could open the door to the building and I had never asked what he was doing breaking and entering. I still can't explain what my motives were to help this stranger break in, but I seemed to sense on some level, or maybe it was just wishful thinking, that he knew what was down there too.

As we made our way though the darkened office, the lightning flashing through the windows gave just enough illumination for me to take my bearings. Although the storm raged outside, all was quiet inside. It didn't bother me in the slightest that I was alone, in an empty building, with this man who might very well be a killer. I already knew for a fact that he was a criminal as I had just witnessed his B & E. Regardless, the atmosphere coupled with the images from my dreams of what was actually in that basement had me scared shitless. The stranger seemed nonplussed and exuded a steel-clad calm. Oddly, I felt comforted by this.

I led him to the back of the office to the door that connected to the corridor and to the rest of the building. The door was unlocked and open slightly. He reached to open it the rest of the way and grabbed my hand to proceed. I squeezed his hand and he turned to look at me when I didn't move.

"Okay, this is as far as I go." I said, the nervousness evident in my voice.

He turned, facing me so close that our noses were almost touching. Our eyes had adjusted to the low light and he looked at me so intently, as if really paying close attention to me for the first time and he could clearly see the terror communicated in my eyes. Realization dawned on him,

"Wait a minute, you know what's down there, don't you?"

"I, I don't know what you're talking about." I stammered. My fear had become absolute paralysis and I only knew that I had to get out of there, now!

"Yes, you do." He confirmed. My panic saying more truth than words could ever refute.

It almost seemed like we were going to argue about it right there, when a strong wind started to gust from the corridor and the door flung itself the rest of the way open.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

"Ohshitohshitohshit." I started to hyperventilate. There was no busted window or draft that had caused the door to open of it's own accord. No, it was something else, something I had sworn that I did not want to meet ever again.

The stranger grabbed my arm and yanked me away from the door.

"Okay, start talking." He commanded.

I took several deep breaths and concentrated on those amazing eyes and his stoic expression and couldn't believe it when I actually started to feel a little calmer.

"Look," I started, not really sure where to begin. "Sometimes I have these dreams, and sometimes they come true."

"I don't suppose these are the butterflies and sunshine kind of dreams." He replied.

His attempt to lighten the mood was appreciated and I gave him a half-smile.

"There, that's a little better." He led me further away from that door and back into the office of the resource center. He set me down in one of the office chairs as he leaned against the desk. The threat in the corridor seemed to be unwilling or unable to follow us and I felt a slight modicum of safety, especially with this handsome protector making a fuss over me.

"I used to have these dreams about a man, I think he was a demon. The entrance to his world was down there, through that corridor. I remember the dream was incredibly vivid, I could remember every single detail. There's a cloakroom in there, I can even remember the hockey jersey that was hanging in it and the number on the hockey jersey and everything."

I knew I was rambling but I didn't care. It felt so good to be getting this off my chest and the stranger seemed like he was interested in my every word.

"The cloakroom led into an auditorium, like a theatre, with curtains on either side, and this man, this demon was there and it was like he was preaching to the crowd. Except the things he was saying were really awful. He told everyone how bad God was and how Jesus was really the evil one. The people in the auditorium were getting really upset at what he was saying and he told them that if they didn't like what he was saying and wanted to leave they were welcome to. He gestured to a door at the side of the theatre and a lot of the people got up to leave. As they were leaving through the side door, the curtains along the side of the theatre dropped and revealed those people being impaled with meat hooks and then lifted off the ground. The hooks went along a conveyor belt slowly at first, and I couldn't hear them, but you could tell that they were screaming and in terrible agony. Then they sped up and slammed the people into a cement barrier. Even in my dream, it was so horrifying that I had to turn away. The people who hadn't left yet started to pray to God to help them, but the demon man just looked at them with his black, soulless eyes and their heads exploded! Eventually, I was the only one left alive in the room. The demon then turned to me and smiled. Even though it was only a dream it was still the coldest feeling of dread that I've ever felt.

'See this' he said, 'I have done it all for you.'

'But why?' was all I could respond to the horror and gore all around me.

'Because I have chosen you.' He declared and in the dream, I blacked out.

When I came to, I thought I was awake because I was in bed, but then I realized I was still in the dream because it wasn't my bed and I was wearing this long dress that was both a sheet and a nightgown. And then the demon started to crawl up towards me underneath the sheet. He, he, oh God, oh my God, it hurt so bad, and yet despite myself, I kind of started to like it…"

My voice broke and I couldn't, I just couldn't tell the man in front of me the rest of it. I hadn't even realized that I was crying but he put his strong arms around me and held me tight. He stroked my hair as he held me close and I eventually started to feel a little silly. After all, it was just a dream, right? Here I was acting like a baby in front of this guy who definitely did not seem like a "chick flick" moments kind of guy. The feeling of silliness was also starting to give way to other, stronger responses. I started to become acutely aware of just how masculine this man was who was comforting me. He started to feel the arousal between us as well and tilted my chin up so that I was looking up into his still concerned but now wanting countenance. He leaned down and kissed me with an intoxicating mixture of heat and tenderness. That kiss wiped away the terrors of my reverie more than any words he might have offered. I gave myself completely into his kiss, giving as much as he was taking. His skilled mouth was demanding but not forceful. Our lips explored, his tongue swept into my mouth and I truly felt like he was claiming me in our passionate embrace.

When we finally parted, mere inches, I felt such a peace that I hadn't known in years. It was as if I had poured all of my tension and anxiety into him and his kiss had purified them into a release of emotion so raw that it took us both by surprise.

"I don't even know your name." I started to say, feeling a little awkward about sharing such an intimate moment with a complete stranger.

"Call me Dean." There was that cocky grin again and we both started to laugh at how corny it sounded out loud.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

"So, are you ready to fight this thing?" Dean asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be." I replied.

"First, there's something I need to get from my car" he said as grabbed my and pulled me outside.

The storm had subsided and had broken the humidity. In it's wake, everything seemed more vibrant and alive. Dean led me to the trunk of his car. The black metal glistened with droplets of rain from the passing deluge.

"Cherry ride." I commented.

"Yeah, I know, chicks dig the car, but it's also got amazing trunk space." He opened it to reveal an arsenal of weaponry. He withdrew a sawed-off shot gun, several of what looked to be hand made rounds of some sort, as well as an odd looking dagger.

"Rock salt," he explained, motioning to the rounds. He also tossed a small leather satchel on a leather string over to me.

"Put this on," he said, "It will keep you safe."

I looked skeptically at the Ju-Ju bag.

"Just trust me." He said and gave one of those irresistible grins.

I adjusted the charm bag so that it hung between my cleavage and glanced over his way to make sure he noticed. He winked and it was my turn to grin back at him. We were as prepared as we would ever be.

Dean seemed much more confidant than I. I mused things over, trying to get my mind off what were about to face and it occurred to me, what with the breaking in, the weapons, and even the man himself, that he must hunt this sort of thing all the time. I thought of how dangerous his line of work must be, and how lonely. Once this was all over, assuming we survived, I made a mental note to find out more about this mysterious man.


	4. Chapter 4

4.

We entered the building and headed back to the corridor once again that connected the office of the resource center to the Masonic Hall. The door was still open, just as we had left it, but all was quiet.

As we crossed into the corridor, Dean stopped to pour a line of salt across the threshold.

"Anything happens and you come back here and stay on the other side of this line, got it? Salt repels these evil sons of bitches."

I nodded and we proceeded down the hallway to the stairs.

"These stairs lead down into the chambers and meeting rooms." I whispered.

As we descended the stairs, in the almost pitch darkness, I failed to notice that a splinter of wood on the banister, caught the string of the protection satchel that Dean had given to me. Unbeknownst to either of us, it slid down and landed on the bottom of the stairs. When we reached the cloakroom at the end of the stairwell, even in the near darkness, I could still make out that it was exactly as I had seen in my dream.

We walked through the cloakroom and into the main reception hall. Suddenly, the lights flickered on and we were momentarily blinded. As my eyes adjusted to the bright-lit room, I could see the demon, the same one from my dreams, standing before us in the middle of the room.

"Well my dear," the demon leered at me, "I see you've come to make your dreams come true; and you've brought an audience." The vile thing clasped his hands gleefully.

"That's never going to happen!" Dean snapped as he fired a round of rock salt at the demon.

The demon raised a hand and the salt easily missed its' target. An invisible force pinned Dean and I against opposite walls.

"Tsk tsk," the demon shook his finger at Dean. Then the creature turned its glare back to me. Its scowl became a lecherous smile as the invisible force ripped open my cotton blouse. The force then ripped the fabric of my bra in two. The demon's smile became wider as it ogled my breasts. I struggled against the force field, but it held me firmly in place.

From across the room, Dean was also fighting to break free against the force that held him captive.

"You touch her and I swear to God I'll kill you, you motherfucker!" Dean swore through clenched teeth.

The demon ignored him as he continued to admire his new plaything. Suddenly, red welts appeared across my breasts and down my stomach. I screamed both from the surprise and the pain. The rips in my skin opened further and trails of blood started to flow out from the wounds and down my front.

The demon was delighted! It reached a long, ugly fingernail into one of my wounds, laughing menacingly as I cried out, and then it licked my blood from its finger. The demon closed its eyes as it savored the pleasure of my blood and pain. It was so enraptured in my torture that it didn't realize that the force holding Dean had started to weaken. At last Dean broke free of the barrier and silently crept up behind the demon as it leaned in close to me. I could feel and smell it's putrid breath on my face. I forced my neck to turn away, but the demon grabbed my head and forced me to face it. Just as it was about to mash it's mouth against mine, I saw it's eyes bug-out in surprise.

Dean was behind him and stabbed his dagger into the demon's back. Red lightning flashed in the demon's eyes and it crumpled to the floor between us. No longer suspended by the force field, I collapsed onto Dean, the blood from my wounds staining his clothes. After that, everything went black as I lapsed into unconsciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

I awoke to find myself in my own room and in my own bed. Slowly, I took in my surroundings. My eye's accustomed themselves to the faint light from the window indicating that it was not yet dawn.

Had I dreamed the whole thing? It was kind of like the dreams before, except that this time there was no handsome stranger to rescue me.

I realized that I was now lying on my back and that I was naked. The sheets were pulled up to my chin. As I became fully awake, I could see that I wasn't completely naked, as I felt the bandages covering the wounds over my breasts and stomach.

No, not a dream then, but then where was Dean? I heard a movement from the chair in the far corner of the room. Dean approached the bed and sat on the edge beside me.

"When you blacked out I carried you back to the cars," Dean explained, "I found your address on the mail you left sitting on the seat of your car and I brought you home."

"Your clothes were ruined," he continued, "I tried to bandage you up as best I could without looking."

"Then where's my underwear?" I asked

"Okay, I might have peeked a little." He said sheepishly and I'm sure that even though I couldn't see it in the dim light, that he was wearing that incorrigible grin.

I reached out to touch him and my hand brushed against warm skin. I realized that although he still wore his jeans, his chest was bare. My hands explored his torso and I admired his physique using only my sense of touch. I brushed a thumb over one of his nipples and a jolt of electricity jump through both of us.

"Whoa, easy there," Dean chided as he started to back away.

"Don't go, please." I implored. That must have been the magic words for he responded by leaning down to kiss me. The kiss was neither soft not demanding. It was merely a response and also an invitation.

Authors Note: Warning the chapter ahead contains sex. If this offends, please skip chapter 6.


	6. Chapter 6

6.

With one hand he cradled my head as he continued to kiss me. His other hand slowly made it's way down my body. He was very careful around my bandages as he each in turn caressed my breasts and teased my nipples into taut points. All the while, his lips never left mine. I darted my tongue past his lips as an open invitation to chase mine. He responded and I stroked his tongue with my own and with my lips.

When he eventually broke the kiss it was for his mouth to travel the same journey as his hands. Dean kissed my chin and nipped at it gently. He then traced his tongue along the line of my jaw and up to the lobe of my ear where he again gently bit. I gasped at the sensation and he gave a soft chuckle.

His lips continued down my neck, leaving a trail of kisses and gentle bites in their wake. He again used the tip of his tongue to trace along my collarbone to end with a kiss at the hollow of my throat.

I wanted to respond to him and use my lips and tongue to, without words, express my gratitude and appreciation for him saving my life. But he was in full control and each time I tried to rise up to kiss him back, he would just gently push me back down to the pillow and back away and he wouldn't resume until I had settled back down.

Dean took his leisure exploring my body. His touch was a pure art form and he the brilliant aster artist. His lips made their way across y chest while he slipped a hand further down to reach the apex of my thighs. When his lips engulfed one of my nipples, my legs fell open, desperate for his touch.

Again Dean displayed a confident, unhurried, almost smugness, acting like the lion that knows the cage door is open. He used the barest of touches at first, allowing my body to open up to him on it's own. Gradually, he stroked closer and closer to my center; all the while his mouth never left my breast.

So caught up in his gentle strokes was I that it completely hit by surprise when Dean slipped a finger inside of me. I gasped again in delight. His finger stoked the flames inside, bringing e almost to the brink of the inferno. Then I felt as though I had been struck by lightning when he brushed his thumb across my clitoris while at the same tie biting down on my nipple. It his me so suddenly and without warning that in each hand I grabbed his head and his hand and held them in place as the spasms racked my body.

Satisfied with a job well done, Dean withdrew his hand and lifted his head back up to my face. I was just getting fired up and I reached out to unbuckle his belt and undo the top of his jeans.

"That's where the danger lies." Dean warned, giving me one last chance to change my mind.

"I want you, now." Was my firm response and I pushed his jeans and boxers to the floor.

With the light from the window increasing from the coming dawn, I could see that Dean was truly a sight to behold, all muscle, sinew and smooth skin.

He stretched out on the bed beside me as I stroked my hands over his biceps, his pecks, his abs and his hips. I glanced up at him to see he was clearly enjoying my exploration so I decided to up the ante. I wrapped both of my hands over his shaft, lacing my fingers together and began to stroke down and then up and over the head. I could feel it becoming even harder beneath my fingertips and I quickened the pace.

He groaned and tried to sit up, but this time it was my turn to push him back down with one hand while I continued to stroke with the other.

Not one to be put in his place by a girl, Dean took my by surprise by flipping me on to my back and rolling on top. He then knelt above me and pulled me up so that I was straddling his hips. I wrapped my legs behind him as he positioned himself before my opening. Slowly, I lowered myself down onto his shaft. The process was excruciatingly delicious. It took every ounce of strength that either of us had to keep from allowing us to just start thrusting wildly.

At last I was fully impaled and for the merest of seconds, neither of us moved. In that tiniest of fleeting moments we both experienced a peace that surpassed anything that came before it. All the pain, a lifetime's worth for either of us, gone in that instant.

We then both started to move, rising in tandem to meet each other. The way we were positioned, even the slightest of movements was rewarded with intense pleasure. I felt my body climbing that mountain once again and Dean increased his thrusts in both speed and force. I screamed and bit down on his shoulder as my second orgasm hit. His thrusts continued to rock me as I rode it out.

Dean lowered my now limp body back down to the bed. He braced one hand on the head- board and one hand over my clit. As his cock pounded into me again with precision speed and intensity, everything shook, the bed, Dean, me as we felt the world exploding around us.

I placed my hand over his heart to feel the adrenaline pumping through him, noticing for the first time now that it was full light, the strange tattoo inked directly over it. I traced the intricate patterns with my fingers as his breathing returned to normal.

I tried to move, thinking that he would want to get up, but he just held me there, looking down and deep into my eyes.

For once, that pain that had lived in each of our eyes, his hazel-green, mine grey-blue, was gone.


End file.
